


The Dress

by quetzalzotz



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Domestic Fluff, F/M, James has a loving wife who lets him cross dress, Non-sexual cross dressing, THE DRESS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quetzalzotz/pseuds/quetzalzotz
Summary: Yeah I'm a sucker for pregnancy tropes sue me
Relationships: James Fitzjames/reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	The Dress

James didn’t realize how much his hand shook until he tried to read the note in his hand. He still didn’t know what possessed him to tell _anyone_ about this, and certainly not the woman that was pre-arranged for him to marry upon his return.

He had been delirious when the men from the Hudson’s Bay had found him, and spent seven months recuperating in Canada being fed a diet of steeped citrus tea and broth until he could travel across to England again.

A hero’s welcome had found him there, along with a proper bride who he had married, placed in a large estate, and mostly allowed her whatever freedoms she desired. She was befitting of the station: pleasantly plump and pale, with a large bosom that fit nicely in the low-cut Bertha of evening gowns, social enough to field questions about her husband and smart enough to know what to say.

At home, she preferred to sit in the dim light, keeping her hands busy with feminine crafts, drinking anything chilled for she was always too hot. James was attracted to her, to be sure, but his fears of anyone finding out his…proclivities hung heavy in the back of his mind. For he was not some sexual deviant; that he _had_ learned on the expedition. No, he was firmly attracted to women. But that niggling doubt….no one would be surprised should he be placed in an asylum. 

His bride hadn’t taken too kindly to being abandoned. She tolerated it at first. He had his space, and she had hers. And she never crossed into his.

Not until that night.

He hadn’t noticed her until she had crossed the room and stood behind him. He dropped the gown he held against his form and stuttered out words.

“James,” she said with a soft voice. “I wish you had told me. The only crime you’ve committed here is these dresses are too big for you.” Indeed, they were. They were her dresses, with large swaths of fabric to accommodate her breasts and her hips. 

And so there he was now, with his own dress and underthings, with a list of what order to place them in, and how to get dressed. She was waiting for him as well, dressed in her own fine things with tea and cakes prepared. The staff had been dismissed for the day, and they could enjoy this alone, together.

James carefully dressed in the various layers, marvelling at the fit. He had not known she would be able to find such a discreet man. Didn’t know she knew such discreet men, who could make a dress for him to fit his broad shoulders and chest and long limbs. He cinched up the front of his corset, marveling at the careful detailing that gave the illusion of breasts of his own, though just a small, pert handful. But it was enough, to fall into the fantasy even more. 

Once his dress was on, he carefully untied the rags in his long hair, something his wife had set for him two days previous. He gasped as his thick brown hair fell into a perfect ringlet hanging at his shoulder. He did as his wife suggested, and gently combed through it with his fingers to separate them into a beautiful crown of curls along his head. 

He didn’t feel confident enough for cosmetics, and he admitted, the sharp angles of his face ruined the illusion somewhat. But as he smoothed his front and felt his hands against the soft mauve satin, not unlike the dress he had found that lifetime ago, and felt truly beautiful. 

The reflection he saw in the mirror was him, this was who he felt comfortable as. He felt liberated with the freedom of the dress, despite its obvious restrictions in the corset and undergarments. But a lick of anxiety curled at his belly. Would she truly accept him still? It was one thing to take it this far, but to complete the fantasy…it was something he would never ask her to do.

He found the stockings difficult to walk in, opting to keep his shoes off for this. His wife didn’t care for shoes in the house, but the hardwood floor did have some slip to it, and he rather ungracefully slid down the landing of the stairs slightly, mis-stepping and gripping onto the railing. He caught his breath and his dignity before descending into the small drawing room where tea was set for two.

He was nervous to step in, but when he saw the smile on his wife’s face and her happy “my Lady,” he relaxed. For the first time since the wedding, they embraced. “You look beautiful darling,” she muttered in his ear before beckoning him towards the table set with the fine china they had received as a wedding gift. James breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her happy made him happy. 

She had herself made the sandwiches and desserts, showcasing her Continental heritage, for her grandmother had been Dutch. She sipped sweetened coffee rather than tea, and James felt his hands quiver as he lifted the fine cup. 

“James, you need not be afraid. I don’t care how you like to dress. You are beautiful. Are you happy?”

James took a thoughtful bite of a cured ham sandwich, “my love, you gave me the best gift of them all. You accepted me. You got me my own wardrobe. You gave me a home.”

“So then I suppose now would be a good time to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” His stomach dropped, assuming the worst.

“James I think your wish came true; I believe we can be expecting another pair of feet running around the house. I’m with child.”

The sandwich fell into his skirting. “Oh are you? Truly?”

She giggled, “Yes, of course. Now pick that sandwich up, I’d hate to stain your dress.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I'm a sucker for pregnancy tropes sue me


End file.
